


Release

by alistairweekend



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Portal 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 15:57:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4311381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alistairweekend/pseuds/alistairweekend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An account of what I imagine Chell did directly after the last scene in Portal 2, influenced by waffleguppies’ Blue Sky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Release

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Blue Sky](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/127542) by waffleguppies. 



> The story isn't really affected by the Blue Sky canon until the very end.

Chell cried when she was released from Aperture. It hadn’t been her intention, of course, and she rather hated herself for it. But as she took in the sight of the brilliant cerulean sky and the cascading golden fields before her, a landscape she could have only fathomed in her most fantastic dreams, the tears started and they wouldn’t stop. The driving factor in this was relief, to be sure, yet as Chell slumped against the Companion Cube and hugged her knees to her chest, unused voice grating at her throat as sobs escaped her, she thought about how she knew what wheat was despite never having seen it in person. At least, not during the lifetime she could remember.

Wheat. Wheatley. Chell would have denied any of her tears were for him. The truth of that was up for debate. He had tried to kill her, yes, but that hadn’t always been so, and that  _moment_ , right as the little robot’s handle had slipped from her grasp –  _I can fix this!_  Chell had had no qualms about taking Wheatley down during his episode of tyranny, but at that last second, he had seemed  _better_.

But it was dangerous to think that way, and Chell’s analytical mind soon beat down the sorry part of herself to warn her that sitting around was dangerous too. Night existed out here, unlike in the constant, windowless fluorescence of the bowels of Aperture. And with nighttime came hungry things.

However, the sun was still high in the sky, a soft breeze took the edge off the heat, and the Companion Cube was a surprisingly comfortable backrest. The nearest trees were nearly on the horizon. If anything big enough to eat her came within a mile, Chell would be able to see it over the foliage. She could rest for a little bit. She had earned that, at the very least.

Wiping away the tearstains from her cheeks, Chell slipped off the strange high-fall boots molded perfectly to her legs. Gently, she laid her feet on the bare earth, wriggling her toes in the dirt and grass and marveling at the feeling. Her hands soon followed, pinching bits of crumbling soil and rubbing it in her hands, her heart fluttering at the first touch of something  _organic_  – not tile, not metal, not synthetic sludge – and the fact that she was  _free_  sinking in. She was free.  _I am free._

Suddenly the shed that had provided her exit seemed far too close, looming behind her. Chell stood up with abrupt decisiveness, slinging the boots over her shoulder. She wouldn’t truly be free until Aperture was far, far behind her. It was entirely too easy to imagine  _Her_  changing Her mind and sending a robotic tentacle or minion or  _something_  up to drag Chell back down to hell.

So she started walking, not in any particular direction. Just  _away_. The Cube was left behind. The burden it would be to carry outweighed any way it could possibly be useful.

Night fell much quicker than Chell anticipated, but she trudged on, determined to get somewhere, anywhere, that could possibly provide shelter. The wheat field was endless, the trees she had spotted earlier seemingly a mirage. But Chell had an inexplicable feeling that the direction she was headed was simply the right way to go, and she had learned long beforehand to trust her instinct.

At one point she glanced up at the sky, and swore she saw a bluish dot amongst all the stars. Was that him? She shook her head, frowning at her foolishness. No, it would be impossible to see him from down on earth. Still, she did wonder what had happened to him. Was he orbiting the moon? Or did he escape its gravity somehow, and tumble off into emptiness?

A bitter part of her interrupted her musing, wondering why she wasted her time even thinking about him. But like it or not, he  _had_  been the closest thing to a friend she’d had, ever. And his last cries for help before her grip had slipped… he had seemed like his old self. Maybe it was wishful, oxygen-deprived thinking on her part.

Chell forced herself to stop thinking about it.

The scenery gradually lost its beauty as she trekked on and her hunger, thirst, achiness, and plain exhaustion became more and more profound. Cuts and scrapes she had learned to ignore back in the tests when she first got them began to bother her, and she found her eyelids fluttering shut every now and again. Her feet began to drag somewhat.

“No, no, no, stay awake,” she muttered hoarsely. The strange sensation of using her voice was enough to keep her occupied for a time, but her body was reaching its limit come dawn.

At one point, her legs gave out. Chell crumpled to the ground, too dazed to realize that she had come upon a dirt pathway. The sun was too bright. Chell closed her eyes.

She didn’t know how long it had been when the voice broke through to her consciousness. “…hey… shhh, shhh… gonna be all right… hang in there…”

Her head jerked, eyes opening briefly enough to see a blur of red haloing a face and feel a cool touch on her face, before darkness enveloped her once more.


End file.
